


Talk Dragon to Me

by science_fiction_is_real



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack Fic, Crossover, Dragonborn - Freeform, F/M, Fire Nation, Fire Nation Royal Family, Humor, NO EDITING WE POST THE FIRST DRAFT ONLINE LIKE MEN, NORDS - Freeform, Parody, Skyrim - Freeform, Smutt, but it's light hearted, crack ship, lines of consent are blurred, nothing about this is wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/science_fiction_is_real/pseuds/science_fiction_is_real
Summary: Fire Lord Ozai arranges a perfect marriage for his beloved daughter Azula with a muscly Nordic Otherkin man.  (And by arrange we mean kidnaps the groom)





	1. A Gift from the Rim of the Sky

The Royal Handmaid woke Princess Azula in the wee hours of the morning, an hour before Azula usually got up to practice her firebending. Which was really fucking early.

“What in the four nations do you fucking want, Offred?” Azula said, wondering what idiotic literally reference prevented her red-clad handmaid from having a proper Asian name like everyone else in this fucking universe.

But then again, her name was Latin for the color blue, so what right did she have to judge?

Offred quivered and lowered her head so her bonnet covered her face. “My princess, My Lord wishes to have an audience with his daughter.” she said meekly.

Azula groaned. Although she was eighteen years old, which she had to be, given that this fic will involve sexual content, she was still a teenager. “Fine. Fetch me my finest silks and do my hair! If its so Spirits-damn important to wake me this early, I might as well be dressed to kill.”

Offred sighed and went to do as she was told. “Nolite te bastardes carbarundium...” she whispered, fighting back the tears of oppression.

Azula marched to the throne room, now fully dressed, sleep deprived, and livid. She was going to let her father have a piece of her mind. She could fear repercussion and punishment. But Ozai had fucked himself over by banishing one of his heirs and he knew he damn well better be nice to the other one if he wanted his dynasty to continue.

“You have some nerve...” Azula said, entering the throne room the way a tornado might enter a straw shack.

Ozai, sitting on his throne, took a moment to raise the flames in front of him a couple feet. This was so he could be more dramatic. Being a tyrant was 20% paper work and 80% aesthetics. He stood and approached Azula.

“Is that how you greet your father, my little Fire Cracker, after I return from my travels abroad?”

“Wait? You were traveling?” Azula said.

Ozai paused. “I... I was gone for three weeks. You didn't notice?”

“Oh,” Azula said. “Well that explains why me and Ty Lee didn't get in trouble after snorting lines off your office desk during that raging party we had.”

“Lines of...? You know what. I'm not going to ask.”

“Cocaine,” Azula said.

“Anyway...” Ozai said.

“Mixed with Ritalin.”

“ANYWAY,” Ozai said. “I have returned with a present for you, my lovely daughter.”

Azula tilted her head to the side. “A present?” she said. “From where?” 

“From the north, my little Snap Dragon,” Ozai said.

“You mean the water tribe?”

“Norther than that. From the very edge of the world. From the very rim of the sky. From... Oh I forget what the place is called,” Ozai said. He stepped forward, and his hands waved before him in dramatic gestures fitting of his dictatorial status. “It was a stunning place. Freezing cold, mountainous, expansive. With fantastic beasts bigger than any that live here. With tall strong men and women with yellow hair who all happen to be played by only a handful of voice actors. With magic. With dragons. And some fucking furies with strange Arabic accents, and this one plot line with a talking Irish Wolfhound.”

“Don't forget the lizard people,” said the captain of Ozai's guard.

Ozai shuddered. “I would if I could.”

“Or the evil skeleton ghosts.”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Ozai said.

The guard lowered his eyes and closed his fuck as instructed.

“I don't give two shits about middle-eastern bestiality fetishists or or mountains or Lizard people, dad. Just give me the fucking present so I can go back to bed.”

Ozai sighed, wishing he could go back to the rim of the sky and be relieved of the burdens of parenthood forever. Maybe he could become a professor of destruction magic at the mage's college or buy a house in Whiterun. But that was not his lot in life. Murdering your father and stealing the throne from your brother sure came with a lot of responsibility.

He turned to the captain of his guard. “Bring forth the prisoner.”

The guard scurried into a into an off-branching room. He emerged twelve seconds later with two other guards, who were leading an absolutely enormous man in shackles.

The man was wearing a helmet with horns coming out of the side, chain mail, and furry boots. His long corn-silk-colored hair flowed over his slumped, defeated shoulders, and his bulky arms strained against his restraints.

“Azula,” Ozai said with a satisfied smirk. “This man is Bjorn Snow-Fucker. We captured him during.

“BJORN!” said bjorn.

Ozai huffed. “Yes. That's what I said.”

“No! You said Ba-jorn. It's Ba yorn.”

“Sorry, I don't speak Elder Futhark,” Ozai said. “Guard. Beat this prisoner into submission.”

The guards kicked Bjorn in his gonads, and while his Steal plated armor protected him somewhat, he eventually ran low on health after several kicks and had to eat the fifty cabbages he was carrying in his pocket just to remain standing.

Ozai continued. “Bjorn here is a very talented individual. He has achieved a 100 skill level both archery AND two handed combat. He's a native Nord, happens to be in possession of 800 gold, and...” Ozai grinned, “he is the Dragon Born.”

At that moment, Bjorn openned his mouth. He released a swear word so loud it pushed the guards 20 feet away from him. The light flickered around them in response, despite the fact that natural sunlight didn't do that. The Fire place before Ozai's throne was briefly extinguished. The sound was like music to Azula.

“Woah,” Azula said, suddenly finding herself interested in a way she had not ever been interested before. “This motherfucker speaks DRAGON?”

“SNOW FUCKER!” Bjorn Snow-Fucker said as the guards tackled him again.

“Not only does he speak dragon,” Ozai said, grinning like a Middle-Eastern Cheshire-cat man. “He IS a dragon! Bjorn here is the dragon born! The Dovahkiin! He is the soul of a dragon in a human body. And since we're the Fire Nation and and dragons are kind of our thing, I thought he'd make an excellent addition to our household.”

“Dragon soul in a human body,” Azula said, mesmerized as she watched Bjorn desperately consume raw potatoes to withstand the guards' blows. “But I thought we banned the other-kin community from the Fire Nation, Father.”

Ozai shrugged. “Yes, but his dovakin status is actually real and magical and not bullshit. Also, my lovely little fire hazard, you and he are to be married!”

Azula smiled. She released a burst of flame from her orifices with joy. “Holy shit!” she said. She had been rejected thousands of suitors in the last year alone, finding none of them worthy of her status as a bad-ass, intimidating, ridiculously good looking, Fire Nation royal. But a dragon man? That was man she was willing to undress, tie up, and beat with a horse swatter. Or possibly with cricket bat instead. She was 80% sure that's how babies were made.

“Holy shit!” Bjorn said, but the opposite kind of “Holy Shit!”

“I told you I could find you a suitable consort, my lovely Kerosene Can,” Ozai said. “And I have! You are to wed at high noon!”

“Oh! Thank you, Daddy!” Azula said. She ran forward and hugged her father tightly.

Ozai stifled the intense panic attack that he often experienced when confronted with human affection, and he stroked his daughter's hair as he saw the dads on TV do. “You're welcome, Siracha Sauce!”

“Please! No!” Bjorn said. “The people of Skyrim need me! I can't be a prince consort! I have to stop the end of the world!” The guards dragged him away.

Azula rushed back to her chambers to prepare for the ceremony.


	2. Whatever the Fuck People Do at Weddings

Offred laid out Azula's finest silken gown. Its red folds draped over the bed like the flow of menstruation or the blood of childbirth. She contemplated Azula's fate as a wife and mother, and longed for the young woman's eagerness and acceptance, though it was not a spouse of her choosing. She silently chanted a prayer to the Great Creator Goddess Margaret Atwood and choked back her emotions.

“Draw my bath, Handmaid!” Azula barked. 

“Yes, Mistress,” Offred said with a sigh.

Azula's servants slaved away all morning, scrubbing their princess from head to toe, combing and braiding her long black mane, stripping her body of its hair, painting her nails, and filing the disgusting calluses off her feet. It is a simple fact of life the best part of marriage is the prep time.

Azula emerged from her chambers four hours later, her hair twisted in a style so elaborate it was actually physically painful. She was crammed head to toe in gold and jewels, like a fucking Winter Solstice Celebration tree. She was wearing so many layers of silk that she wasn't sure her husband would be able to find her underneath it all when it was time for them to get down to business. The smell of her perfume wafted strongly in every direction, reeking of a garden fairy's flowery asshole.

Ozai was waiting for her in the hallway. “You look lovely, my little Heat Wave.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I already knew that. Let me see the décor.” She stormed past Ozai, who gagged on her floral stench. 

“Yes!” Ozai said. “Of course. Let's make our way to the ballroom.”

The ballroom was absolutely pimped out. Ribbons and white lilies and roses covered the walls. The tables were set, with those stupid floating candles and those multicolored mint candies that tasted like shit but wedding planners still thought were a good idea for some God damn reason.

“The live band will play after the ceremony. The cake has fourteen layers. The bridesmaids, Mai and Ty Lee have been stuffed into matching dresses that don't fit them, they'll never wear again, and they had to pay for out of pocket themselves,” Ozai said. “We're still searching for a spiritual leader to officiate the vows. I asked Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, but he said that with me here, it might get a bit awkward and meta, and anyways, he's too busy fucking around with some frog nuns on a water planet.”

“Well you better find someone fast, old man. I can't stay single forever.”

“I'll see if L. Ron Hubbard picks up his phone,” Ozai said with a sigh. “His space ship is fast enough he should make it in time. He owes me a massive favor.”

Azula groaned. “Just hurry up with it. I'm about to go bridezilla over all everyone's fat asses.”

“As you wish, my darling little arsonist.” He then continued to scream at the staff to decorate faster.

Meanwhile in the dungeon, poor Bjorn was being cleaned and prepped as well. It was the first bath he had had in 500 hours of play time. Dried blood, dirt, and slime tinted the water underneath him, and his skin shined an even more obnoxiously pale color.

“Please stand still so we can dress you, Dovakin,” said one of his assigned manservants. 

Bjorn pushed the man away. “Just hand me the clothing so I can equip it.”

They gave him the silks which he added to his innovatory. His armor instantly disappeared and the crimson robes appeared in their place. He refused to take off his horned helm, despite the fact it looked ridiculous and didn't even have that much defensive value.

He thought of Lydia, his NPC companion who had followed him throughout his journey. He missed her poorly acted (No offense, Colleen Delany, I'm sure you're a really nice person in real life) pre-programmed commentary that kept him company on lonely nights. He hoped she hadn't gotten stuck behind a glitch in that bandit cave where he had been kidnapped from. He doubted his new assigned companion, with her moody temper and chillingly dynamic voice, would be as kind.

He had slain dragons, he thought to himself. He had completed quests that required him to kill talking dogs and commune with devils. He had raided dozens caves and killed hundreds of innocent skeleton ghosts and blind gollum elves who were just minding their own fucking business. Surely he could handle a teenage (old enough to consent), villainous, fire-mage bride. 

But as they unshackled his hands and led him upstairs to the ballroom, he suddenly was much less sure.

Guests had arrived by the time Bjorn had been lead to the alter. Most of them were stuffy Fire Nation nobility types, like the NPCs he had met in the embassy raid mission. Among them were prince Zuko, who had been pulled out of banishment for the sole purpose of having it rubbed in his face that he was not the favorite child, as well as the Fire Jarl's pot-smoking war-veteran brother.

The spiritual leader who had been selected, Saruman the Many Colored, stepped forward. “We shall make this fast, noble Fire Nation Folk, I have a former colleague imprisoned on my roof who I must prevent from escaping. Rise fair guests!”

The guests rose. The silk and bamboo orchestra struck up a slow and poorly-rehearsed rendition of Pachelbel's Canon. The doors to the ballroom opened, and SHE appeared.

Azula marched slowly down the isle behind Offred who was tearfully spreading fire-lily petals on the floor for her mistress to trample (like the hopes and dreams of women silenced by oppression, my our Lady Atwood bless their souls.). Ozai had his arm in Azula's. And two chubby faced children whom they had rented off Craigslist held the trail of her elaborate clothes. Bjorn could smell her fairy-anus perfume from the alter. He ignored the guests who choked and gagged as she passed them.

Their eyes met. She looked hungry, intent... horny, and... Bjorn felt his throat go dry. She was fucking HOT. And not just she left a trail of smoke behind her as she walked. Maybe this forced marriage wouldn't be so bad.

Azula arrived at the alter. Ozai released her. She took Bjorns hand and looked at her with half closed eyes and a sensual smirk. Bjorn trembled. Her hands were so tiny, and delicate, but also deadly.

Lord Saruman coughed, and motioned for the orchestra to stop and for the guest to sit. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here to witness the forced arrange marriage of an privileged princess and her otherkin dragon slave fiance who was recently kidnapped from the north. Something Something 1 Corinthians 13. Something something commitment and unity and all that touchy feely stuff. You aren't here for that. You came for the open bar and karaoke, so I shall hurry. The rings please.”

Offred, eyes dead in their sockets, and soul screaming to escape, stepped forward with the rings in her hands. Saruman took them.

“Princess Azula, son of Firelord Ozai, Heir to the throne...”

“Fuck you!” Zuko shouted from the front row. “Fuck you all in the asses!”

Sarumon silently put a curse on the disgraced prince, and continued. “Heir to the throne, fairest in the land, and most bad-ass fire bender ever to walk the Four Nations. Do you take Dragon Born Bjorn Snow-Fucker of the Nords to be your husband? Do you promise to love him and cherish him, provide him one home-cooked meal every day, exchange inventory items with him, and provide him the 'Lover's Comfort' resting bonus when he sleeps near you?”

“Fuck yeah,” Azula said.

Ozai covered his face with his sleave to hide his tears of joy. “My little discarded match has grown into an enormous raging Forest Fire.”

“And do you Dragon Born Bjorn Snow-Fucker of the Nords take Princess Azula to be your wife, to impregnate her in a timely fashion with healthy, fire-bending heirs capable of ruling the nation, to look supportive when you appear with her in public, occasionally kiss babies and do charity work, but not get too involved in politics (because let's be honest here, no one wants to hear your opinion on that matter)?”

Bjorn froze. He rapidly scrolled between the two options on his dialogue screen, unsure what to say. But then he saw Azula's fluttering eyelashes, caught a glimpse at the cleavage poking out of her robes, and then saw Ozai's threatening death glare that promised to murder him horribly if he said no. And he really did not want to have to go through this whole scene again after he re-spawned.

“I do!” he said. “Now and Forever!”

“The bride and groom may now kiss!” said Saruman. “See you guys later. I have to go make sure my orc soldiers haven't all killed each other in my absence.” And he bolted out of the ballroom before Azula and Bjorn could even make eye contact.

Azula removed Bjorn's helmet. She threw herself upon him and slobbered all over his face. The crowd clapped except for Zuko who was confused as to why he suddenly only had the ability to speak and understand Spanish. (Hint: It was Saruman's curse.)

“Wait did that wizard leave with our rings?” Bjorn said. But his words were cut off when Azula stuck her tongue in his mouth and tried to untie his robes in front of the alter.

“Okay, that's enough.” Ozai pulled Azula off of Bjorn. “That part comes later, little Matchbox.”

“I'M A GROWN MARRIED WOMAN FATHER! I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE ORDERS FROM YOU.”

Bjorn put his helmet back on so that the guests at the reception would not see him weep.

The wedding reception was also held in the ballroom. Copious amounts of food and alcohol were served to copious amounts of people. Azula eagerly shoved cake into her husband's mouth, dragged him to the dance floor, and laughed in maniacal bliss as friends and relatives lifted their chairs into the air or whatever the fuck people do at weddings.

The speeches were made.

“Azula my daughter, you have now entered the fine Fire Nation tradition of loveless, political, arranged marriages that work kind of like zoo breeding programs for rich people,” Ozai said. “May you have many, preferably male children, so that by the mercy of the Fire Gods, our dynasty doesn't die in shame.”

“Falicitaciones, Puta!” Zuko said when it was his turn for a speech.

Bjorn had been kidnapped from his homeland so he didn't have anyone to make a speech for him.

Bjorn drank as much as he could. Alcoholic beverages restored his stamina. And by the blood of Talos, was he using a lot of stamina. He suspected the entirety of his marriage would be stamina intense, judging by his teenage wife's insane behavior. He wished he was on a mountain getting killed over and over again by a dragon right now. But then again, she was so fucking hot....


	3. The Gross Part

Then the guests were told to fuck off. The band packed up and left, making sure to steel several pieces of palace décor on their way out, upset that Ozai was now refusing to pay them. And Azula gave her large nordic slave husband her most licentious bedroom eyes she could muster.

“By the blood of Talos,” Bjorn said.

“What's that, my love?” Azula said.

“Nothing,” Bjorn quivered.

“Well, good night daughter and son in law,” Ozai said. “I shall retire. Perhaps to commune with Offred.”

Offred, who had been dejectedly trying to clean up vomit off the floor from an alcohol-poisoned guest, let loose a sigh of great frustration.

“Oh yes, How is the handmaid program going anyway?” Azula said.

“We've had her for two years and I don't think she's pregnant yet.” Ozai said. “Despite the fact that we have been kissing every night. I even tried using tongue.”

“Hmm,” Azula said. “I'm pretty sure that's not how babies are made. I think she needs to tie you up and beat you with a cricket bat.”

“Oh... I don't know about that,” Ozai said.

“Yes!” Offred said, jumping up. “That sounds like a lot of fun. I'm certain that will work.”

“Of course we could just try intercourse. But that makes such a big mess and I don't want to deal with that.”

“Wait,” Bjorn said. “You talk to your dad about this stuff? You think that babies come from BDSM? Am I going to get tied up and be beaten with a cricket bat? I don't have enough potatoes left to recover from that!”

“Actually,” Ozai said. “I'm pretty sure babies are caused by kissing.”

“No, I like the BDSM theory,” Offred said, certain the revolution had come. “Come on Ozai. Show me where the weapons are.” 

“Fire Jarl, you have two children!” Bjorn said. “How do you think they were created.”

“Well, I kissed my wife at least two times,” Ozai said. “Or maybe it was only once... Can you get pregnant twice from one kiss?”

“Yes,” Offred said. “You don't have to kiss me any more.”

“Shut the fuck up, Slave wife!” Ozai said.

Offred sighed and closed her fuck.

“Does this Land of Fire even have sex education in schools?” Bjorn said.

“Of course not!” Ozai said. “My grandfather Fire Lord Sozin banned it, just how he banned homosexuality, the other-kin community, and books where the dog dies! We don't need our children growing up to be sluts. We certainly wouldn't want women empowering themselves through knowledge about their own health!”

“You people are ridiculous!” cried Bjorn. “Even a superstitious land like Skyrim has equal roles for women and men!” 

“Oh yeah, you Scandinavians are sort of into that whole socialism thing, aren't you?” Ozai said.

“And we have the one of the highest standards of living in the world!” Bjorn said.

“Shut the fuck up, slave husband!” Azula said.

Bjorn sighed and closed his fuck. This was going to be a LONG night.

Azula stood and took Bjorn's massive arm in her own. “Come along Slave Husband. Let's go do the gross part!”

Azula and Bjorn walked arm and arm to the suite that had been prepared for them. Sweat gathered under Bjorn's helmet, which was starting to feel REALLY hot. Azula felt anticipation like she had never felt before. Her heartbeat was fluttering like it was trying to escape, and the space between her legs was beginning to swell.

She looked up at Bjorn with a stupid grin, creepy enough to make the cast of Criminal Minds quit the case in the face of such dangerous perversion. But. She. Was. So. Fucking. Attractive. With her slender form and shiny raven hair, and perky boobs she had purposely left half exposed. Even her fairy-anus perfume was getting to Bjorn's head.

The suite had been decked out with candles and rose petals and incense and red silk.

“Take your Spirits-damn clothes off,” Azula said. “I wanna see your dick!”

“You don't have much of a sense of romance do you?” said Bjorn.

“What's more romantic than tying up a man with rope and beating the shit out of him?” Azula said.

“Well, a lot of things really.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bjorn said. “For example, we could engage in conversation.”

“Ooh!” Azula said. “Teach me some of those magic dragon curse words!”

They sat down on the bed together.

“Well, there's one that goes like 'Fus! Ro! Da!'”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means.... I don't really know,” Bjorn admitted. “I just say it and it makes people fall back.”

“How are you a dragon in a human body if you don't even actually know dragon language?”

“How are you married if you don't even know where babies actually come from?”

Azula leaned in and placed her body on Bjorn's enormous chest. He was so warm, so sturdy and solid. He froze at her touch, but he didn't move away. Azula laughed. “Maybe you could teach me.” She grabbed his helmet and removed it. His pale face had grown bright red.

“Well...” he said. “A man has a penis and when he is...”

“I learn best through demonstration, fucktard.”

“Snow-Fucker. My name is Snow-Fucker.”

“I thought it was Ben.”

“It's Bjorn.”

“Is it Bjorn or Snow-Fucker?”

Bjorn closed his eyes. By the Blood of Talos.

“Whatever, it doesn't matter,” Bjorn said. “Let us continue with the demonstration.”

As a Hero of Skyrim, Bjorn always treated women with respect. Except of course when they were blind gollum elves, hag ravens, skeleton ghosts, bandits, or dark wizards. Then he would kill them and take all of their things. But other than that he was a gentlemen. So he moved slowly as he undressed his new wife, making 100% sure she was comfortable with it.

“It feels strange undressing a woman I haven't killed through fire magic,” Bjorn said, untying Azula's sash.

“You are a master of fire?” she said, her finger tracing circles in his chest.

“And also frost and lightening.”

“Those aren't even real elements.”

“But they work against trolls,” Bjorn said.

“Well, I happen to know a little fire and lightning myself. Maybe we can use it to.... heat things up....”

“It would have to wait until my Magica replenished” Bjorn said.

“That is the most bullshit sentence I ever heard.”

“Oh, I'll explain it later.” Bjorn stuck his enormous callused hands into Azula's robes, and slid them down over her slender shoulders. The perky, porcelain lumps of her breasts almost make him stop resenting his abduction and slave marriage. He could have a little fun while enduring a life of debasement. When he parted her robes completely, and saw the soft flesh of her genitals, he forgot his anger completely.

“Did we get to the baby making part yet?” Azula said. “I don't FEEL pregnant?”

“No just... Now you do me.”

She untied his robes quickly. Soon her slave husband was sitting naked beside her. Yellow, bristly hair covered his enormous muscly limbs. His chest and stomach were also pleasantly hairy. He looked strong enough to win a fight with a bear. Which is something he had actually done before, though he often died several times in the process. His skin bore the scars of battle. Just 230 pounds of solid lean beef. Delicious.

Azula took hold of his cock in her small, feminine, deadly. It was almost too big for her to wrap her fingers around, but she was able to when she squeezed it with delight. 

“Ooh!” she said. “I thought it would be pokier. This is soft!”

Bjorn winced in pain at her squeeze. “Well, it will get harder.”

“Use your frost magic to freeze it!”

“That's not how it works!”

“Do it, Slave Husband! Freeze your dick hard! I want to see it.”

“I promise, you won't like it when it's cold,” Bjorn said, his eyes watering in pain from Azula's vice-grip. He pried her hands free carefully. Thankfully his member was not bruised or burned. “You may grab it, and in fact, I enjoy having it grabbed, but please, Princess, not so tightly.”

Azula narrowed her eyes in annoyance, and took hold of his dick more gently.

“It likes to be rubbed,” Bjorn said.

“How do you know,” Azula said, beginning to rub the absolute living shit out of the enormous penis. “Does it talk to you?”

Bjorn relaxed at the sensation, suddenly losing most of his ability to speak. “Yes,” he choked out. “In a way.

“And if I do this, then will I be pregnant?”

“What? No, uhm...” Bjorn was getting frustrated, although the manual stimulation certainly was helping. “How about... How about I try the same for you?”

“What?”

Bjorn put his enormous hand on Azula's soft, slender thigh. He looked her in the eye as he snaked his hand upward.

“Wait!” Azula said. She let go of his penis and scooted away. “You are awfully inappropriate, Slave Husband.”

“This is our wedding night, Princess,” Bjorn said. “However we could wait till some other time to try to impregnate you. I don't suppose you are in any particular hurry to produce your royal heirs.” He withdrew his hand and smiled at her.

She growled. “So you're telling me I can't get pregnant without you touching my no-no?”

“I give up,” Bjorn said. He flopped back down on the bed.

His young bride laid down on top of him, their naked bodies pressed together tightly. “What's wrong, Bart?”

“Bjorn.”

“What's wrong?”

“I didn't ask to be a Fire Jarl's son in law. I should be up north. Saving the world from an evil dragon. And here I am trying to impregnate a woman I barely know without even having sex properly with her.”

Azula was quiet for a moment. She didn't have much of a sense of empathy, and to be honest she didn't give two shits about the world or evil dragons. But she DID want a baby. And she did really really like having a muscly naked dragon man who could fire bend on her bed with her.

“Well,” Azula said. “If you finish showing me the baby making process, then I can go up north with you and help you with your stupid dragon job.”

Bjorn looked at the young woman, impressed. “For a sadistic, entitled, slave-owning princess, that's really mature of you to offer.”

“Well I HAVE reached the age of consent in this fic,” Azula said. “So I'm at least that mature.”

“Okay,” Bjorn said. “I'll finish impregnating you, and then we can go back north to Skyrim and defeat the evil dragon. I can even take you to see some of the sites while we're there.”

“That sounds like a nice honey moon,” Azula said, resting her head on her husbands hunky pectoral muscles. She took his hand and moved it to the flesh between her legs.

They looked into each others eyes. Bjorn's enormous forefinger found his new wife's delicate clitoral button, which he massaged gently and beautifully.

Azula felt her body buck and react. She needed to bring this guy with her to fire bending practice everyday to help her warm up. It was the best rub down she'd ever gotten. Every single drop of lactic acid immediately oozed out of her pores to curse her muscles no more.

“Oh....” Azula said. She closed her eyes. She rolled over onto her back and spread her legs to give her hubby room to work.

He moved his hand away, and then stuck his enormous golden head in between her thighs. Cunnilingus was not a skill that was quantified on Bjorn's skill tree, but he guessed he was perhaps at level 75 at this time, certainly good enough to make his young wife scream in pleasure. He did not mind that the process was so messy, that his beard was covered in saliva and vaginal mucous. It was enough to see that his wife was pleased.

She stiffened, raised her hips into his face, and began to shiver and shake. The sensation was like loud music. She was a fiddle string, and he was a horse-hair bow, and he made her produce a long, beautiful cry of pleasure that could be heard from every room of the palace. She wanted to live in this sensation for the rest of her life. When he finally looked up she was panting and swearing. 

“Oh! Oh! Fuck! OH! OH Boris! That was amazing!” she cried.

“Bjorn... You know what, never mind.”

“Can... Can I try?” she said.

He laughed softly and rolled over so that she could see his cock. She placed her drooling open mouth on its tip. Her tongue, lips, palate, all worked together to stimulate his cock into a large, throbbing, desperate mess. While Azula's oral sex skill was not quantifiable, due to the fact she had no skill trees, she seemed to do okay for a novice.

He ran his fingers through her shiny black hair while she sucked. He felt a powerful urge to thrust, though he held back. He didn't want to make her gag on her first time pleasuring a man. But his will-power skill level increased to about 50, just from the enormous effort it took to hold back.

“Speak dragon to me!” she said, taking his dick out of her mouth long enough to speak. She immediately latched on again and sucked harder than ever before.

Bjorn gripped the bedsheets beside him, hardly able to breathe. The sensation filled his entire body, it was blindingly strong. But he indulged his princess's request.

“Froharrohar thundergrrrunder!” He said. He didn't know what that meant. He wasn't even sure it was real Dragon. But Azula hummed in pleasure as she worked.

“Thorragnorokamarvalmovie! LukeLuckLikesLakes!”

His penis throbbed, his balls ached to release their fluids. Her mouth was no longer enough. He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her backwards onto the bed. “Rastapasta unger dunger!” he said. Now he wasn't even trying to speak dragon. He was just saying bullshit syllables.

Azula giggled. “Am I pregnant now?” she said.

“One more thing we must do my princess!” he said. He parted her knees and settled himself between them.

“What is that?” she said.

“I must enter you!” he said.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she said.

“You know like...”

“Oh whatever! Just do it!” Azula cried.

He pushed his enormous throbbing dragon erection inside her unnaturally warm vagina. It made a beautiful, disgusting, squishing noise.

She yelped. “HOLY SHIT!” she said. She wasn't sure if it was the good holy shit or the bad holy shit. “It feels like getting struck with lightning!”

He laughed softly and stroked her cheek. “Do you want me to use a little shock magic on you to make it more intense?” he said.

“It can get more intense than THIS?” she said, her hips jerking in reaction to his careful thrusts.

“Only if my princess desires it.”

“Okay,” she said. Her own hands began to spark with electricity.

The two warriors pushed themselves together over and over again, shaking the bed. Bjorn used a bit of his magica to send a soft electric current out through his dick. It pulsed through Azula's body and came out of her hands, which connected with his shoulders, completing the circuit. The electricity became more and more intense, until the curtains around the bed started to catch flame. Azula could barely summon the concentration to bend the fire out. 

Bjorn's thrusts accelerated. The princess's muscly walls sucked and squeezed his member with perfect intensity. Azula felt the thrill of being stretched and filled and pounded. Every nerve ending between the both of them was singing in ecstasy.

“Oh!” Azula screamed. “Fuck yes. This is more fun than I've ever had in my entire life! And I've KILLED people!”

“I also have killed people!” Bjorn said. “I've also died, came back, and became blood-kin with the Orcs! And I agree this is much better than all of it!”

“I want to get pregnant over and over again!” Azula said. “Lets have 12 babies one after the other.”

“As you wish, my love!”

Finally Bjorn felt his genitals twitch and contract, about to burst. He felt the urge to scream. His voice built up in his throat. 

“FUS!” he said, with a thrust so powerful it caused his wife's eyes to bulge out of their sockets.

“More!” Azula said.

“Ro!” he added, another thrust that caused Azula to scream louder than she ever had in her life.

“MORE!” she said.

“DAAAAAAAA!” His shout caused Azula to be pushed into the bed with great force. The vibration caused her to writhe in pleasure. The lights flickered, and he released an enormous waterfall of flaming hot semen that filled Azula to the brim and leaked out into the bedsheets underneath.

Their genitals seem to form a perfect unity in that moment, Both of them were throbbing and hot and sticky.

Bjorn thrust once or twice more while Azula moaned. Then, unable to continue, and perfectly satiated, he fell back onto the bed next to his wife.

Azula lay there, panting hard, her knees in the air above, her vagina pulsating and leaking fluid. “HOLY FUCK!” she said.

“Yes,” Bjorn agreed.

“I feel like my stomach has a heartbeat inside it,” she said. “Is that because I'm pregnant? Is that my baby?”

“That an Orgasm, your body is throbbing with pleasure,” Bjorn said. “I had a similar experience..”

She looked up in anger. “So all that and I'm STILL not pregnant?”

Bjorn smiled awkwardly. “That.... Uhm. The baby needs a little time to settle in, you might say.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Would it settle in faster if we did it again later?”

Bjorn leaned over and pushed sweaty black hair out of her eyes. “I'd sure love to find out.”

The newly weds came together in a proper kiss, slow, sensual, and disgustingly slobbery. Then they fell asleep in each other's arms. Tomorrow they would fuck each other's brains out once again, and leave for the north to defeat the evil dragons. And they would live happily ever after.


End file.
